Henry
by chocolatepokes
Summary: [HIATUS] In Stephen King's "Cell: A Novel", Alice Maxwell's last word is "Henry". This is my take on who Henry is, and what happens to him before and after the Pulse.
1. Chapter 1: The Fields

Wildflowers pounded against Alice's dress as she ran across the sunny field. "Henry!" she exclaimed.

The boy named 'Henry' turned as soon as he heard his name. He smiled at the sight of the young girl. The long blade of grass he used as a whistle dropped from his fingers. "Hey," his voice trailed, smooth like silk. "How did the party go?"

"Boring... as usual," giggled Alice. She wiped her sweaty hands on the skirt of her dress. "You know how tea parties go." She waited for a reply, but none came. This made her cheeks hot. "The crumpets weren't as fresh as they could be." A shy smile ran across her face.

Her smile reciprocated onto Henry. He could feel himself falling even more for the girl. He did not want to seem uninterested, so he said the first thing that came to mind, "And the tea?"

"The tea was fine. Earl Grey. The usual. Haha." She bit her lower lip.

"Well that's great," replied Henry. He could not think of anything more to say. His eyes fell to the ground, and he started to kick at the dirt. It reminded him of the first time he met Alice. It was at one of Boxford's soccer tournaments. She was the only girl among the teams of boys. Yet, she was, in his opinion, the best player. The crowd cheered for her, and went wild whenever she scored. At the end of that day, he had summed up the courage to talk to her, and they have been acquainted ever since. Alice was the only girl who saw him for who he actually was. And he fe-

"Alice!" called a far voice. In the distance, a figure waved at the duo. As it got closer, it was apparent that Alice's mother was calling for her.

"I have to get to get going," said Alice. "It's Wednesday."

"Ah, shopping day," replied Henry.

"As always."

"Promise to be back?"

Alice smiled and started to walk away. "I promise."

Henry watched until the girl disappeared beyond the pink field. He thought it looked beautiful, that she looked beautiful. Alice was the only girl who saw him for who he actually was. And he felt blessed to share her company.


	2. Chapter 2: Boxford

The sun had set, bringing with it the ripples of gold in the river. Alice had not returned like she had said. Henry did not blame her.

He slowly left the dark field. The moon was not shining, but he knew his way around. This was his and Alice's so-called meeting point. He went there almost daily.

As he entered the town, the usual greeting street lamp was out. _Blackout_, thought Henry. _Hopefully, they get it back up before school tomorrow_. While turning the street corner, he heard a thud then a cry – or a howl, he was not sure – coming from Mr. Jules' house. _Mr. Jules shouldn't be building stuff in the dark_. Henry chuckled, imagining Jules hitting himself in the thumb with a hammer. He knew the first thing that he would tell Alice in the morning. He was almost certain that it would make her laugh. Henry smiled to himself. He can be so clever sometimes.

As he trailed along Main Street, his skin shivered from the wind's chill. The boy almost forgot that it was now October. He would have to flip his calendar when he got home.

His skin shivered again.

Although it was only the wind, Henry was sure the evening felt eerie. The town was flooded with darkness. He was afraid something would jump before him. Nothing did. At least not yet.

The sound of a heavy plastic object scrapping against the street's concrete startled Henry. His foot had kicked it into a puddle. He bent over and picked the object up. It was a cell phone. Henry sighed with relief. He was spooking himself out. Boxford was a safe town.

He put the gadget in his pocket and continued walking home. Somewhere in the distance he heard gunshots. Running home suddenly seemed like a great idea. _Boxford is a safe town_, he reminded himself. _This is just my imagination_.

It came as a surprise to him to find his front door unlocked. His family was neither in the living room nor in the kitchen, so Henry assumed they went to bed early. He climbed up the stairs and went into his bedroom. The door shut behind him. He put the cell phone on his nightstand and flopped on his bed. As soon as his head hit his pillow, he was asleep. He would have no dreams tonight.

Henry woke to a burst of light shining through his thin curtains. He blinked. The morning was silent and the electricity, still down. Did this mean class was cancelled for the day? He highly doubted it. When he would get to school, he would have to tell Alice about Mr. Jules. He would also bring the cell phone he found to the 'Lost &amp; Found'. It was most likely a student's. An adult would never lose theirs.

He took the cell phone and headed downstairs for breakfast.

_Weird_, he thought. _No one is up yet_. Henry casually looked around the room, then to the cell phone in his hand. He was horrified to find it covered in dried blood. It fell to the floor.

His hands clasped over his mouth and he stared at the thing for a second or two longer than he should have. A thought came over his mind and he checked his hands. Blood was caked into his fingernails and stained some of his fingers. He trembled slightly.

Where was everyone?

The floor creaked from behind him. Before he had the chance to turn around, a voice came.

"_RAST_!"


	3. Chapter 3: First Encounter

"_RAST!_"

Henry turned his head to find a man he had never seen before standing at the foot of the staircase. The man looked agitated as his head twitched incessantly. He was looking out the living room window, or what remained of it. The window appeared to have been smashed from the inside. Its thin linen curtains flew slightly outwards, towards the street.

The boy quickly but quietly ducked behind the kitchen counter, his eyes never leaving the man. What disturbed him more than the stranger's presence in his house was the blood that drenched the right side of his face. It flowed from a seemingly fresh cut above his brow, down his cheek and neck, to his clavicle, where his sweater absorbed the red liquid. The man, who looked middle aged, scanned the room until his eyes fixed themselves on Henry, who was still cowering behind the counter.

Henry heard himself gasp a little. He held his breath as the man approached him at a slow yet steady pace. Five steps in, Henry thought something felt odd about the man. For one, his eyes seemed unfocused. Henry was uncertain if the man were looking directly at him or not. His jaw hung loose and his lower lip seemed to have a mind of its own, as it danced from side to side. His posture consisted of dramatically slouched shoulders and a forward stretching neck. The man seemed lost.

"_Agulabesh_," he said. His eyes then drifted to the fruit bowl on the counter, a little to Henry's right. "_Gnot_." He snatched a kiwi from the bowl and shoved it into his mouth. He had no trouble chewing and swallowing the fruit before a second and then a third followed its path. He tried to do the same with an orange but had no luck. Instead, he smashed it against the granite countertop, saw that it had cracked open and stuck the orange to his mouth, sucking on its juice.

Henry was sure the man had gone insane. He had eaten the kiwi fruits whole, along with their fuzzy peels. _As long as he doesn't notice me, I should be fine_, thought the fifteen year old. _But damn_.

Suddenly, as if told by a superior, the man dropped the orange and headed for the window. The closer he got to it, the higher Henry peeked from behind the counter. The man put one leg out the window, attempted to throw the other one out too, but his pants got caught on the broken glass underneath. Nevertheless, his body continued on with the weight he had thrown and he slipped forward, ripping his pants and a large part of his thigh in the process. The sound it produced made Henry cringe.

Outside, Henry could see the sun rising delicately and the man joining – was he seeing right? – a hoard of other people. Although the man was bleeding from his face and now his thigh, the other people seemed unfazed by his physical state. His eyes still focused on the outside and his hands grazing the countertop, the boy's curiosity got the better of him and his feet started to move him closer to the window. All of a sudden, his right foot caught on something heavy yet supple, and he stumbled, hitting his chin on the countertop.

He looked down, expecting to find a rolled up mat or maybe even folded laundry on the kitchen floor, but instead, discovered his dad lying there, lifeless.


End file.
